Soulmates
by itstartswithj
Summary: He wasn't sure whether he believed in soulmates, but he sure as hell never believed he'd find his in a one night stand with a spitfire of a bartender from a tiny town in Iowa. Dean/OC. Smut.


**Soooo... This is my first time writing a story with smut, so don't count on it being all that great. Just trying to expand my horizons. :) Takes place during season 1. Enjoy!**

* * *

The surface of the bar was slick with spilled alcohol, and every time she leaned over it to hand a drink to a customer, the amber liquid soaked into her white shirt, creating a see-through line just beneath her breasts. It was a Saturday night and one of the biggest NFL games of the season was playing on the tiny TV in the corner of the bar, so the place was loaded.

She barely had time to register each customer's order before another was being thrown at her.

From a booth in the back corner, a pair of green eyes hungrily watched the pretty bartender trying to keep up with the flow of drinkers. Dean couldn't remove his eyes from her caramel brown curls, or from her dark blue eyes, or from that damn see-through line in her top.

When the game ended and a good amount of people began pouring out of the bar, Dean left Sam at the table and made his way to the bar. She was too busy wiping some whiskey off the bar to see him coming, and when he took a seat at a squeaky stool she turned to get a quick drink of beer for herself, tucking the dirty towel into the back pocket of her jeans.

Dean cleared his throat to get her attention, managing to tear his eyes away from the location of that towel and meet hers. Somehow, the impossibly bright blue of her irises were just as satisfying. Quirking his lips up in his womanizing crooked smile, he set his arms on the bar. She merely scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Of course Dean knew she was used to, and probably got annoyed by, this type of thing. A woman that looked like her couldn't work at a bar like this and expect not to get hit on. But then again, this wasn't Dean's first rodeo, either. He'd flirted and slept with a number of bartenders just like her, but they all fell prey to his charm.

This one was different.

"I'm Dean," he said, despite the blow to his ego.

"I didn't ask," she replied confidently, her expression neutral. "What do you want to drink?"

"A Miller," he managed. He couldn't grasp why this wasn't working. His flirting _always _worked on women. The last time he'd been blatantly rejected like this was in eleventh grade.

She turned and grabbed his beer, easily breaking the lid off the bottle by smacking it lightly against the bar. She grinned at him, not a friendly grin, and slid his drink across the bar and into his waiting hand. He slapped a ten on the table, muttering that she could keep the change, and she eyed him before tucking the money into her apron.

Sam came over after a while, telling Dean that he was heading back to the motel.

"Don't wait up," Dean mumbled, not removing his eyes from his latest conquest. Sleeping with this girl wouldn't be such a big deal to him if not for the fact that she was so damn stubborn.

The hard-to-get-act was something he hadn't dealt with in a while, and he'd forgotten just how endearing it was. But more than that, she wasn't playing hard to get. She was genuinely blowing Dean off, and he hadn't been aware of just how much of a turn-on it was until now that he was getting it. It made this girl even more sexy than she already was.

"Good luck with that one," Sam chuckled. He smacked Dean's shoulder, finished off his beer, and put it on the bar top. He smiled politely at the bartender, who actually gave him a soft smile back.

_What the hell? _Dean wondered. Girls _always _chose Dean's distant, flirty ways over Sam's polite manners. There was something about the challenge of tying down a man like Dean, the hope that they could be the one to change him. It was a futile effort on their part, but it fulfilled Dean's needs and he wasn't going to argue.

It was nearly midnight when Dean could tell that her shift was ending. She tossed the towel that'd previously been in her pockets onto the counter, untied and hung up her apron, and slid a leather jacket on. She called goodbye to the bartender taking over and stepped out from behind the bar. She started toward the door, but Dean turned his barstool around, his legs falling in her path.

"What?" she sighed, dropping her shoulders. She'd obviously given up on trying to push Dean away, because he was being persistent.

"Let me walk you to your car," he ordered. She bit her lip, looking like she was actually considering, and so Dean reached forward and caught her hand in his. Surprisingly enough, she didn't pull away, so he turned up the charm. "Please?"

"No," she decided. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Dean, and he knew he was getting closer. "And I mean that. I walked here from my apartment, so you literally couldn't walk me to my car. Even if I wanted you to."

"Ouch." Dean was smirking despite the jab. "Still, that's all the more reason for me to walk you. I can't let a pretty girl like you walk home at this time of night."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she told him harshly. She waited a few moments, saw that he still wasn't giving up, and sighed. "Fine."

Having won the first battle of the night, but still knowing that there was an even bigger one to come, Dean stood, pleased with his accomplishment. He took one last swig of his beer and he hurried to catch up with her, hastily yanking on his jacket and falling beside her, hands in his pocket.

She didn't say a word the entire way to her apartment building, but it was only a five minute walk. Dean walked her all the way up to the front door of the apartment building, where she finally twisted around. He was closer than she'd originally thought, so close that her back met the door and he could feel his breath on her lips, making them tingle.

"I can make it from here," she managed breathlessly, not looking away from his green eyes. They, however, were trained on her lips which, in her opinion, were much too close considering they were strangers and she hadn't even told him her name.

"You're not going to invite me in?"

"I..." She blinked, trying to remind herself why this was an awful, terrible, horrible idea, but she couldn't find a good enough reason to say no. "Fuck it." Raising one hand to the back of his neck, she yanked him in until their lips met.

They'd both had their fair share of kisses.

Dean had his first kiss when he was twelve with a girl a year older and much more experienced than him. And he'd had plenty of kisses since then, none of them with any feelings or strings attached. And it always seemed to work for him.

But this kiss held more ecstasy than half of his endeavors with girls that'd gone further, and he knew that tonight was going to be amazing now that he'd gotten past her stubborn, hard-to-get act. He stepped forward, his body flush against hers, so that she was sandwiched tightly between his body and the door. She was warm and experienced, soft in all the places he was hard, and it was driving him crazy. He could taste tequila on her tongue, and their roaming hands hardened him as he twisted one hand into her hair and yanked gently so that her neck was exposed enough for him to suck on.

Still, despite the fact that she was a little spitfire and he was more turned-on by this hot, frantic kiss, it was somehow still sweet enough that Dean _wanted _to know everything about her. Her birthday, her embarrassing moments, why she was working in a rundown little bar when she could honestly do so, so much better for herself.

He wanted to know her name more than anything.

"We..." She stopped speaking, inhaling sharply as Dean's lips worked at her neck. Trying to gather her frazzled thoughts, she managed to grab Dean's head and pull him back, although that didn't stop his straying hands. "We should go inside."

Dean merely grunted, wrapping an arm securely around her waist and yanking open the door to the inside hallway. Luckily it was empty, as his lips had returned to her neck and she wasn't sure she had the control to stop him again. He followed her stumbled steps to the first door on the left, where he slammed her against the wall and met her lips again.

"Dean," she whimpered after a moment. Due to the distressed sound of her voice, Dean pulled away to make sure she was okay, but it was obvious that her voice was only weak because she didn't know how much longer she could wait.

Standing beside her while her bumbling hands located the right key on her chain. He lifted a hand to her shoulder, sliding aside one sleeve of her leather jacket and the collar of her T-shirt, and skimmed his lips lightly over the sensitive skin there. It took her three tries to get the key in and turned, and as soon as she pushed the door open she and Dean stumbled inside in a clumsy mess.

Immediately in the doorway, Dean shoved her against the wall and resumed where they'd left off outside. Lightly kicking the door shut and turning the lock, he went to work on her already swollen lips. His large hands fell on her hips, his fingers raising her shirt just enough that his rough, callused fingers could rub softly against the smooth flesh there.

Gradually his hands continued up beneath her shirt, his thumbs grazed over her ribcage, his fingers pressing into the skin of her back near her spine, until he finally reached the bottom of her bra. His lips began devouring hers even more desperately, and he grinned when she bit back a moan as her fingers moved smoothly over her bra.

A deep grown yanked them apart. Dean glanced over to see an impossibly large black Great Dane, looking out of place in the tiny apartment.

"Um." She'd dropped her head onto Dean's chest when he looked over to see the dog, bashful now that their frantic kisses and touches had ceased. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was semi-embarrassed. She wasn't this type of girl. She didn't sleep with strangers. "Don't mind Duke," she finally managed. "He's harmless."

Sensing the fact that she was starting to second-guess herself, Dean knew they needed to resume their current activity as soon as possible. But honestly the huge Duke's eyes reminded him of Sam's, and Dean wasn't about to take this girl against the wall with the thought of his little brother.

Dean slid his hands down her back, feeling her stiffen just slightly when they ran over her ass, and she gasped when he unexpectedly tightened his grip on the backs of her thighs. He hefted her legs up and around his waist with an ease that left her breathless and curious about what he did, but she wasn't caught up on that for long as he placed a gentle kiss in the center of her chest, where her V-neck left the space between her collarbones exposed.

Leaving his hands on her rear to support her, he edged away from the wall and started down the hallway. Understanding what was about to happen, her stomach dropped, but there was no way she had the self-control to stop now, even though she knew how much she would regret this in the morning. While he kicked open each door, searching for the bedroom, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs around his waist, tossing her head back and eliciting a groan from each of them.

Finally he found the bedroom and carefully laid her down. Her brown curls, which had become sexily disarrayed, fanned out like a halo against the pale blue duvet. Hovering over her, careful not to put too much weight on her, he placed one gentle, soft kiss on her lips, the first slow one of the night. It was encouragement, reassurance that he was going to take care of her tonight, going to do everything to make her feel good.

She ran her hands up his chest, over his gray shirt, and over his shoulders, pushing the sleeves of his jacket away and effectively disposing of it onto the floor. He did the same, teasingly skimming his hands over her breasts, and bundled up the leather jacket before tossing it away. He slid down slightly, dropping his head onto her stomach in defeat when he found she was wearing a belt. She giggled at his reaction, a complete 180 from the hard, distant bartender, and lifted her hips after he'd undone it so that he could yank it out of the loops of her jeans.

He slid his hands beneath her, lifting her up so that she was sitting up, and he easily lifted her shirt over her head. A couple of hours ago he'd been staring at the tiny bit of skin exposed by the see-through line of whiskey on her shirt, but now he could see everything. Pushing her back onto the bed, he ran his hands over her bare shoulders and down her arms, reveling in the fact that she was so small beneath him and he had complete control.

He ran his hands over the smooth cups of her lacy red bra, ready to remove it and lay his lips over the hard mounds of her nipples, but evidently she wanted a turn in charge. With a bit of effort she pushed him up and sat up, catching the hem of his T-shirt and lifting it. Not about to argue, Dean raised his arms to help her. Due to the height difference she stood in a crouch to completely remove his shirt.

She raised overhead and whipped it in circles while he grinned up at her. She squealed and dropped the shirt when he tackled her legs, causing her back to collide with the wall over her headboard with loud giggles. She would've crumpled back to the bed but Dean supported her, on his knees on the bed before her. He placed a playful kiss just below her navel, unbuttoning her jeans and tugging them down to her calves. Struggling to balance with the combination of wobbly knees, a squishy mattress, and jeans at her ankles was difficult. They both laughed while she used everything around her to balance, from the headboard to Dean's shoulders, and lifted her feet up so Dean could help her completely strip of her jeans.

The playfulness quickly ceased though, as now she was in only her bra and skimpy matching panties with Dean looking at her like she was a goddess. Easing forward, he left a gentle kiss on her upper, inner thigh. She gasped deeply, her knees giving out, but Dean supported her, letting his lips linger near her very core.

"Dean," she pleaded desperately.

"Shh."

Leaning against the wall so she wouldn't fall back, she tossed her head back in ecstasy as one of his fingers slid beneath her underwear and lightly, teasingly rubbed over the hot bundle of nerves. She whimpered as he eased one finger inside of her, feeling every last ounce of uncertainty ease away. She couldn't back out now, even if she wanted to. Her body simply wouldn't allow it.

Dean dipped another finger in, and she cried out, collapsing back to the bed. Her muscles felt like noodles, and she was breathing deeply as Dean moved his fingers to her back, unclasping her bra with ease. He pushed the straps off her shoulders, but she tightened her arms at her sides so that the fabric didn't move. Her cheeks were bashfully pink, and she wasn't looking at him.

"Hey." He caught her chin and forced her to look at him, although she unsuccessfully tried to tug her head away. Edging forward, he placed an innocent kiss at the tip of her nose. "You're beautiful."

Her bra dropped and Dean tossed the pesky fabric away, once again settling himself over her. Taking a moment to appreciate her pure perfection, he kneaded one nipple between two fingers, dropping his mouth to the other. She threw her head back and arched her back, giving him better access to give equal attention to each breast. His tongue swirled over the puckered, aroused flesh there, his teeth grazing it once and causing the gasp that came out of her to be so loud that Dean could no longer ignore his hardness.

He stood, leaving her there to catch her breath, and slipped out of his jeans and boxers. He removed a condom from his wallet and hurriedly rolled it on, returning to her on the bed.

Hooking his thumbs through the waistband of her panties, he watched her face to be sure she was okay as he tugged them down and finally completely off. Making his way back up, he let his fingers brush her there one last time, his lips grazing over her hipbone before he finally returned to her face.

His tip was a mere few centimeters from the place he'd been trying all night to reach, and when he brushed against her opening he fought the unbelievable urge to shove inside and screw her senseless. He knew better.

"You're sure?" he breathed, keeping her foggy blue eyes in his vision. Unable to speak, she merely nodded, and that was all the encouragement Dean needed. Self-control all used up, he began.

He was slow and as gentle as he could be about easing into her. She was by no means a virgin, but Dean could tell by her earlier nerves and the tightness of her around him that this wasn't something she did much. She stiffened and whimpered, her fingernails digging into the hard muscle of his biceps. Dean, finally all the way inside her heat, paused for a moment to let her adjust. He dropped his head to the place between her shoulder and neck, kissing it softly and mumbling a quiet apology for hurting her.

He could feel when she was ready, but he still started slowly. His pace, however, wasn't quick enough for her, and she screamed his name while demanding he went quicker. Speeding up, he pounded in and out of her, eliciting a new grunt or groan from her each time he buried himself fully inside, each one pushing him to continue at the same exhausting speed.

"Dean," she whimpered, her voice wavering as she was so close to her release.

"Hold on," he muttered, capturing her lips in a quick kiss as he continued to move in and out of her heat, her muscles continually clenching around him. "Stay with me."

It wasn't enough, though, and they both came at the same time. She cried out an animalistic sound, her head falling back onto the pillow and her toes curling, while he moaned with her, feeling his muscles give out and falling beside her on the bed.

The bliss remained for a few moments after they'd finished, and neither moved or said anything, just laid still, savoring this beautiful moment.

After disposing of the condom, Dean finally gathered his emotions, twisting onto his side and winding an arm around her waist and pulling her back flush against his front. Lifting his head, he brushed her dark hair out of her face and planted a kiss against her temple. Holding her warm body to his, the fresh memory of his first time truly making love to a woman, and the sound of both of their calming breaths, he fell asleep with ease.

* * *

A soft buzz woke him up a little after four AM. After brushing his lips over her shoulder he carefully lifted his arm off of her waist and slid out from beneath the covers, finding his jeans in the pile of haphazardly thrown clothing and pulling his phone out of it, quickly scanning the text from Sam.

_New coordinates from Dad. Long drive so don't be long_.

Dean sighed. Last night when he first spotted this girl, he didn't care that he would have to leave in the morning. He'd had plenty of one night stands all over the country, and none of them ever really mattered the following morning. All they'd done was merely fulfill his needs, for which he was thankful, but none of them were ever permanent. This one wasn't supposed to be any different.

But somewhere last night he'd crossed the line between having sex with a woman and making love to one. He'd pushed away the knowledge that this was just another temporary, one-time thing, that come morning he would have to leave and continue on hunting the bad things.

_You do what you do to protect people like her_, Dean reminded himself. _Normal people_. It was little consolation.

He pulled on his boxers and sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard, his mind replaying the memories of last night. He didn't want to just leave after they'd shared that. Glancing at the small form under the duvet beside him, which had curled up since he released her, Dean reached over and played with a shiny curl.

She woke up as he was pulling on his clothes. Sitting up groggily, her hair a nest of tangles that she couldn't run her fingers all the way through, she peered through the darkness to see him.

"Dean?" she whispered. He turned and that she'd woken up. After tucking his wallet and phone into the pockets of his jeans, he pulled on his shirt and went back over to the bed.

"I have to go now," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes and instead looking at her bare shoulder. A flash of his lips kissing there crossed his mind, so he looked down at the blanket.

"I know," she mumbled, but despite that fact, she was still disappointed. Last night she'd known she would regret letting this man inside, and she was right. She by no means regretted what they'd done, but she regretted the fact that she'd let her guard down, allowed herself to love, and once again she would be spending the morning after alone.

"Can I know your name now?"

"No." She smiled at him, putting her hand under his chin and making him meet her eyes. She kissed his lips gently, smiling afterward. "There's no point of knowing my name if this is the end. You know that."

Dean begged to differ, but didn't argue.

She gave him a cup of coffee to take with him. At the front door, he turned once he was out, dipping his head down and meeting her addicting lips one last time. It killed him that he might never kiss her again, so he savored the sweet kiss. Duke came between them and jumped up, his gigantic paws landing on Dean's shoulders and effectively separating the two.

"Your dog's a real cockblock, y'know," Dean told her with a chuckle.

Sam picked him up outside the building, and she watched from the window, her hand resting on Duke's large neck. When the Impala rumbled away, she sighed, finally letting her sadness out. Heading to take a lonely shower, she knew it would be a miserable morning getting ready for work.

In the car, Dean let Sam drive so that he could catch up on his sleep. His brother, despite having always teased Dean about his sexual endeavors, said nothing, somehow knowing that this girl was different.

When Dean woke up he offered his ears if Dean ever needed someone to talk to, but Dean just shook his head, ready to move on to the next job and return to his previous ways of drowning his sorrows in women and alcohol. He somehow knew that he would never forget her, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try.

He wasn't sure whether he believed in soulmates, but he sure as hell never believed he'd find his in a one night stand with a spitfire of a bartender from a tiny town in Iowa.

It wasn't the last they saw of each other. Fate played cruel games with their relationship, the angels dragged her in as a pawn in an effort to make Dean say yes to being Michael's vessel, but somehow each time everything worked out.

In the end they went their separate ways, although there was always some regret on both parts that they'd never gotten everything to work out.

Castiel always kept an eye on them both, feeling guilty for letting them suffer, but knowing that in the end their pain and sorrow would be worth it. Little did they know, they were true soulmates and, when their work here on Earth was finished, they would be able to spend eternity in Heaven.

It would all be worth it when Dean and Ellie could be together with nothing and nobody to keep them apart.


End file.
